The Plight of Van Gogh
by FindaHappyPlace
Summary: Hank McCoy had an old childhood friend who ran from anything that seemed to threaten her. When she comes back after twenty years of being missing, will she still be trying to run?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Hank McCoy's childhood friend was the first person to open his eyes to the dilemma that mutants have to face. She disappears for almost twenty years and is thought to be dead. In her memory Hank McCoy tries everything in his power to help all mutants. Takes place after the end of the show. Beast/OC.

The Plight of Van Gogh.

Disclaimer: I own only Quinn and her family.

Chapter One. Twenty-three Years Ago

"Hey, Beastly, what up?" Hank McCoy, age twelve, jumped noticeably at the startling sounds of a young girl's voice. He turned to the sound and found dark brown eyes staring at him from upside down.

"Quinn, what are you doing?" he asked. His only response was loud childish laughter.

"Just hanging around." she responded finally, laughter still in her voice. Hanging upside down in a high tree limb, she was just eye level with Hank, her long dark brown hair dangling from her blue scrunchy. She swung down and landed ungracefully onto the ground, falling into a pile of musty, dead leaves. Hank reached down and helped her back onto her feet, his large over sized hands almost completely covered her shoulders entirely. She dusted off her jeans, smile never leaving her face as old leaves fell back onto the ground.

"Is it just me, or are you excessively happy today?" Hank asked her. She spun around in a circle, her dark hair swing around in it's ponytail as she went. She then walked toward the bright sunlight that was being hidden from them by the thick cover of trees.

"I just turned ten yesterday. I have a new sketchbook. I'm gonna be happy no matter what!" She emerged into the clearing only a few steps ahead of Hank. She threw herself into the grass and stared up at the sky, basking in the warm sunlight. Hank moved to sit down beside her. Her smile failed her for a moment as her features turned to look like she was in a deep train of thought.

"Mom and Dad are fighting again." she told him randomly as she rolled over to face him. Hank's eyebrows knitted together in contemplation.

"Why?" he asked her, falling into the grass as well.

"My dad's got a new lady friend that my mom doesn't like. I don't know why mom would be so upset about that, but she is. She's furious. She wants to move in with Grandma, but Grandma doesn't have enough room for the both of us." she told him. Hank sighed. Quinn O'hara had just moved to Dunfee about four months ago. She arrived just as summer had started, and living in the middle of nowhere, she didn't really have the opportunity to make friends. The school year had just picked up, and as far as he knew, he was the only friend she had, even as her classes began. Her family was just her and her parents. In the few short months that the O'hara family had lived there, his parents decided it was best if he not go over to her house for various and sundry reasons. Hank had a very shrewd idea why her mom was so upset my her dad's new lady friend.

"I don't want to move. There's not a Beastly I can run around in the woods with there!" she told him playfully. She nudged him with her old tattered sneaker.

"Yeah. I don't want you to go either Quinn."

...

Five Years Later.

"Hank! I'm so tired of Dunfee I could vomit!" she told him angrily. They were back in the clearing, this time it was scattered in bright white stars. They both were sprawled out into the coarse grass looking upward. Her hair was tamed and pulled back out of her hair as she had large earrings dangling from her ears.

"I don't think that would be the most appropriate course of action. Your suffering from small town syndrome." he told her. She sighed deeply. He soon did also.

"I think I'm suffering from the sucky-parent syndrome," she said bitterly. Hank rolled his eyes.

"That too," Quinn laughed loudly. She gave another sigh and grew serious again.

"Hank, I need out. I have a feeling something's about to happen. I don't want to be apart of it either." she rolled over to her side and faced Hank.

"Just wait a few more years, you'll get into a good college and will be making millions off your paintings." A heavy set of clouds blew over and uncovered a brilliant half moon. Wind blew the thick blades of grass to tickle across their bare arms.

"I don't think my paintings will sell millions 'til I'm dead, Hank," she said laughingly.

"That's the way to be optimistic," he announced sarcastically. "Are you coming to the game tomorrow?"

"No." she told him flatly. "Last time I went the jocks threw my sketchbook in the mud and me on top of it. I was lucky that it only seeped through the cover and two pages."

"Oh, right. I just thought you might want to see me play." he said glumly. She smiled and laughed softly.

"Let me borrow your binoculars and I'll watch from the woods behind the stadium."

"Van Gogh, it's a deal," she reached out and they shook on it. He rolled over onto his stomach and turned to face her. Her eyes seemed to capture the light of all of the stars. Their faces grew close, their noses almost touching. His hand found a lock of her dark hair that had fallen from her ponytail and hung just in front of her ear. Their breath the began to mingle together in the autumn night. She placed her forehead against his. Her dark eyes closed as she slid closer, her knees pressed against his thighs.

"HENRY! Time to come inside! It's a school night." Edna McCoy called from across the McCoy property. They both jolted back as if they shocked each other with their pent up energy. Quinn jumped up and quickly disappeared into the trees.

He sat up and stared at where her body had left an imprint in the grass. He hung his head low in defeat and made his way back to his old farm house. His mind was whirring with all the possibilities of what could have just happened.

...

Later that night.

Quinn was sitting on her bed, leaning over her sketchbook, eyes narrowed in concentration. Wads of paper littered the floor with a couple of broken pencil leads. Quinn gave a groan and threw a pillow against the wall, knocking down some of the many doodles she had tacked up there. Something wasn't right with her sketch. It was of a snake, coiled up in a defensive position on a bed of rocks. Its looked extremely life-like, an achievement she was highly proud of, but something still didn't seem right well. She curled her bare toes, gathering up bits of the homemade quilt between them. She placed her pencil in her mouth and rolled the pencil between her teeth. The clock above her ticked away past midnight.

She set her index finger right between the snake's eyes. She held it there for a few moments and when she went to withdraw it intense heat shot through her fingers and travel throughout her whole body. She instinctively threw her sketchpad onto the floor. When she inspected her burning finger, nothing appeared the be wrong with it. She looked down at the thrown sketch book and sitting on top her sketchpad was a living and breathing rattlesnake, shaking its tail in attempt to frighten her off. She gave a loud scream and tried to skirt around it to the door as it tried to sink its teeth into her bare ankles.

Her parents came running down the hall to her room, obviously just startled from sleep. Her mom came to her and place her arms around her shoulders. Her father looked into her room and gasped. He ran back to his room only to return with a metal baseball bat. She closed her eyes and cringed as she stood in the hallway, when her father raised it above his head.

After her father dragged the now dead snake from her room, she felt numb and in shock. Her parents were livid as to how a rattlesnake ended up into the upstairs bedroom of their only daughter. She didn't dare tell them what really had happened. When the lights from her parents bedroom went out, she ducked out of the house, bare foot and in pajamas as her only protection from the November cold, to talk to the only person who would believe her. As she approached his house she scooped up a handful of pebbles and put them in the front pocket of her light blue tee-shirt. She then pulled herself up into the tree right outside his window. Her toes wrapped around the rough bark as found a spot in the tree outside his window and leaned against the tree trunk.

Tap. Tap. Tap. She threw the pebbles as gently as she dared against his window. His lights turned on and then his window was shoved open with a loud groan of crackling paint. He leaned out of the window, his bright blue eyes instantly finding her figure in the shadows.

"Quinn?" he looked surprised for a moment. He reached out and help pull her into his room. She climbed through the window, stepped onto his desk that was covered in advanced psychics homework, and leapt lightly onto the floor. In the five years that they had been friends, it was the first time she had ever been inside his room with the door shut. It was lit only by the light of a lamp next to his bed. His room was covered in football trophy's and posters, but what she saw that was truly him, was the bookshelves full of hardback books.

"Isn't it the male that is supposed to be one who throws pebbles at a girls window?" he asked with humor as he turned on a radio to cover up their voices. She just sat down on his bed and pulled her knees close to her. He sat down across from her on the carpeted floor. She sat in silence for a moment, debating how to tell him.

"I did something strange, Hank." He looked at her for a minute. He didn't respond, hoping she would continue on her own. She did after she rubbed her temples in frustration and threw her head back in anger. He waited patiently, know that in time, she would answer.

"I was working on a sketch for Mrs. Caldecott. Right? It was a snake, just a simple rattlesnake." she looked at him, she tried to emphasize the importance of the next part by motioning with her hands, "I brought it to life, Hank." He cocked his head to the side, his eyes were full of confusion.

"I think you seem to bring all you artwork to life, hence the nickname Van Gogh."

"Not like this, Hank, there was a living and breathing rattlesnake sitting on top of my sketchbook, in my floor."

"Really? In Dunfee, how? You turned a sketch into a real animal?" he brought his legs up off the floor and stared at her intently.

"Exactly.. My dad killed it with a baseball bat. Its corpse is probably dangling from our garbage can outside. I picked up my sketchbook right before I came here. There was a blank white spot on my page where the snake was." the room fell silent except for the feeble noise of jazz music playing over Hank's radio. "What am I?" He was silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

"I don't know what it means. I don't have the slightest clue, but hey at least I'm no longer the only freak show in Dunfee, Illinois." she smiled a little as Hank moved to sit down next to her.

"Your not scared of me, are you?" she asked and the tried to draw her body as close to her as possible.

"I could never be scared of you, Quinn. You're the best, and only real, friend I have. What ever is going on, we'll figure it out together."

"Thank you." she murmured to him softly, he just put and over size hand on the small of her back, pulled her to him and held her close for a long time.

After she stayed with him for about an hour, and significantly calming down, she opened his window back up. "Put this on, It is the smallest one I have. I don't want you to catch your death out there." He was holding a sweatshirt that the had just dug out of his dresser.

"Thanks Momma McCoy," she replied softly, but pulled the dark blue Dunfee High School sweatshirt on nonetheless. It fell almost to her knees and she had to push the sleeves way up. She smiled sheepishly before he held his hand out and helped her back on top of his desk. She swung out of his window and he watched her shimmy down the tree and run off into the darkness of the trees, cursing softly every time she stubbed her toe.

When she stepped back into the kitchen of her own home her parents were awake and sitting at the kitchen table. He father held a glass full of amber liquid and her mother was standing in the doorway, tears trickled down her face.

"Where the hell do you think you were?" he dad practically yelled. She felt fear build up in the pit of her stomach as he stood up. He slammed the glass down, liquid sloshing everywhere and stumbled to her.

"Outside." was all she could say, all she dared to say.

"Yes, we saw you run out into the woods with nothing but a tee-shirt and shorts on. Where did the sweatshirt come from? Huh?" he was right in front of her. He smelled just as drunk as he looked. She couldn't bring her to say anything. "You whore. Your screwing around with that gorilla of a failure." Her jaw dropped in shock of his accusation.

"I.. Hank.. We didn't.." she fell silent again. Her mom began to sob a little louder in the corner. Her eyes turned to her mother and then back to her father, just in time to see him raise his his hand.

...

Hank had spent the whole weekend trying to find a way to contact Quinn, but she wouldn't show up anywhere. She was absent from school on Friday, and didn't show up to the game. They always hung out on Saturday at the creek, but she never showed, not the creek, or the field, the forest, or the stables.

On Monday, he went immediately to her locker and saw her shutting it and turning in the opposite direction. He caught up with her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and she looked straight up at him. Her lip looked like it had been busted and a bruise just lightly dusted her left cheek. It didn't look fresh, like it had been healing for a few days.

"Oh, Quinn," his whispered, surprised that his voice didn't crack. He reached out to place his fingertips to her bruised cheek. She backed up and thrust his sweatshirt back into his arms. Her face was so full of spite it almost brought tears to his eyes.

"Save it, Magilla," she turned and ducked into her Geometry class as the bell rang. He just stood there as if he had been slapped. She has always called him Beast, or Beastly, but it was with a certain kindness that it had never once bothered him. She always said it was just who he was and that she liked him that way. As she stood in front of him and called him the nickname that every bully and jock the school contained had called him since first grade, he felt like the most alone and miserable human being in the world. He let his sweatshirt fall to the ground as he turned and headed through the now empty hallways for Advanced Chemistry.

...

Quinn had been on her bed crying for the past hour. Not because of her parents, she could deal with that. Not because she had once again brought something out of her drawings (a vase she had broken on accident last week was now sitting back on the mantle). But, because of the image of Hank's face was stuck in her mind, when he looked at her with such confusion and sadness.

She gave a loud groan and very much wished all of this would just go away, that she could leave her room, and apologize to her only true friend. She stared out her window, and saw Hank standing out in their field. He wouldn't want to talk to her, not after what she had done. Why had she done it? Oh yeah, he father said that if he ever saw the "monkey" around his land again he would pull out his shotgun. She released another guttural groan, grabbed fistfuls of her hair and fell face first into her pillow.

Ugh! She was so confused! She never before was afraid of her talent, but felt that if she so much as picked up a pencil, she would cause a minor Armageddon. She rolled off her bed and crawled to the other end of the room. What harm could looking pictures do? She pulled open a drawer in her dresser that was full of magazine clippings. It was filled to the brim with cut outs and doodles.

She pulled out an old clipping from a national geographic with a photograph of a stream of salmon. She thought that it was one of her favorites. It would make a nice color pencil sketch. Her sudden inspiration over came any fears she had had before. She walked through the hallway in order to get her large easel and stretch her legs. She looked down at the painting. It looked like a stain had gotten on it. She took her thumb and tried to rub it off. When she stopped, the growing familiar stab of heat went through her hand and she dropped the photograph. Fear shot through her as salmon began to emerge from the photograph, dozens came flopping out, and it wouldn't stop. A powerful gush of water sent hundreds of salmon down her hallway and down the stairs and they were to the middle of her shins now. She heard her mother screech loudly. She waded into her room and slammed the door behind her. Water leaked under the door and she heard salmon bang against the door. She did the only thing that seemed right. She began to pack her bag. She threw in clothes and art supplies. She looked out the window and salmon had worked their way into the yard, flopping back and forth in the thinning dying grass. She yanked open her window and busted out a screen just before salmon busted the hinges off her bedroom door. She ducked out of the room and climbed on the roof feeling the shingles against the bare feet. She sat down and quickly tied on a pair of sneakers.

Salmon were everywhere. On the roof, in windows, in the grass, her mother could still be heard screaming as salmon flopped all over the house. She threw her bag on the ground and climbed down the gutter. She was gone before her parents knew otherwise.

She grabbed her bag and ran. Ran as fast as she could. She emerged into the clearing in setting sun. Hank was still there. She threw her bag down and yelled for him. He turned and she threw her arms around him as best she could. She kept mumbling apologies over and over again.

He pried her loose and then inhaled. "Why do you smell like fish?" She gave one of her infamous belly laughs.

"Damn National Geographic." Hank just looked at her with an raised eyes brow. "Well, salmon are no longer and endangered species in this area anymore." Hank laughed loudly.

"I think I can still hear my mom screaming as six hundred salmon went down the stairs." Hank looked over her shoulder and saw the large camping bag. Quinn, realizing what he was looking at, gave a loud sigh.

"Hank, I can't go back," she told him, her eyes looking down at the grass surrounding their feet. He looked at her, his expression pained.

"Where will you go," he asked seriously. She just shrugged and turned her back to him as she shouldered her bag.

"I don't know. I like the south. I think I'll go there. Maybe someone out there knows what I am."

"So your just going to run away?" she turned and nodded.

"Exactly." A cold wind blew suddenly as the purple and orange like covered them both. Her long brown hair blew in her face.

"Quinn, its dangerous, I won't let you! You can't go. I need you here..." He took a breath before he went to keep on ranting. Quinn placed a finger over his mouth.

"I have to. I need to. I want to. I won't forget you Beastly. Your still gonna be my best friend." She leaned forward, kissed him on his cheek, and disappeared into the shadows of the woods before Hank could even murmur a goodbye. He stood fighting ever instinct to grab her and take her back, and make her stay, but he just sighed and stood still.

"And you mine, Van Gogh."

...

...

That's chapter one. Thanks to TruInsanity for hassling me to finish this. Oh, and in the comics, when Hank grew up, everyone in school called him "Magilla Gorilla" after the cartoon character, if you were wondering.

--- I just reedited this one. It's a little more convincing and realistic, RandR thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: X-men is owned by Marvel Comics. I only own the character of Quinn at this moment in time.

Recommended songs for this chapter: Johnny Reznik's "I'm Still Here", Motion City Soundtrack's "Antonia", Paramore's "Fences". They were what I listened to while writing it.

Chapter Two:

In The Not To Distant Future

"Mutant Dodge ball again for second time this week? Logan, your going soft on them!" Hank told him laughingly as the students roughed there way through a game of dodge ball. Kurt and Kitty were the two current champions, what with them both being able to constantly avoid the balls. Jamie's, poor thing, power was hindering him. Every time he would split up, one of him would get hit, thus rendering him out. All of them were quite the sight to see.

Logan and Hank McCoy were out doing the Danger Room session this early September morning, and instead of going inside on such a beautiful morning, Logan sent them outside for a little well deserved fun, that and he wasn't in the mood to teach.

The sky was completely blue and the leaves were swaying with the gently breeze and the air still smelled of honeysuckle due to the brilliant gardening of Ororo Monroe, more commonly known as Storm. Logan's eyes were turned to a figure standing next to the water fountain, intently watching the game of dodge ball.

"Hank, recognize her?" Logan asked. Hank shook his head. Logan turned to the class and quickly dismissed them. After much cheering the students quickly dispersed for their next class. Hank and Logan began to approach the woman. She appeared to be in her early thirties, brown hair, cut short to about her chin. It was tied back in a black, paint splattered bandana, but some of it had escaped and was framing her tanned face. It made her dark brown eyes stand out with her strong eyebrows. Her chin was pointed and her nose was thin and long. She was about 5'7" and looked as though she didn't get her three square meals a day. Her torso was long and boney, her cheeks hollow, and she was wearing a much to large button down shirt and a pair of jeans coated in a thick layer of grime and paint, holes in the knees and thighs had been stitched shut with thick odd colored patches. The look in her eyes, was that of someone who had seen a lot in her life, intelligence based on experience oozed from her.

"I heard this was a safe place for mutants?" she said as a question more than a statement, her voice was kind, but slightly hoarse. Her accent was thick, New Zealand or Australian probably. She had a bulky camping bag that had seen better days sitting on the ground next to her worn pair of sneakers, the toe of her left shoe had to be bound in yellow duct tap to keep out the elements. Her bag was old and the zippers were being bound shut by mass amount of thick twine.

"I think you're a little old ma'am. This here is a school for young students. I think you may have missed the dead line by about twenty years." Wolverine told her. Her eyes fell to the ground.

"I've come along way, you don't think there is any possible way I could work here. Janitor, cook, anything. I have no where to go anymore, no where safe anyways." she said urgently. Wolverine was still unyielding. She sighed and moved to pick up her single bag. Beast was suddenly struck with strange dose of familiarity.

"Do I know you?" he said for the first time in the entire conversation. She looked at him with an odd look to her, as if she to were trying to figure out if she knew him. It dawned on him like a mallet to the head, and the realization felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out.

"Van Gogh," her eyes opened wide. Her mouth dropped ajar, forming a perfect "o". A couple of students had begun to crowd around the newcomer.

"Beastly!" she screamed loudly. She jumped up and threw her arms around him. Wolverine jumped back and unsheathed his claws, thinking she was trying to attack him, but Beast just wrapped his arms around her and spun her around. They were both laughing hysterically. When he placed her back down on her feet she lost her balance and fell backwards, her laughing just grew louder.

"Oy! What's it been? Twenty years? It's been so long!" she asked as she was pulled up from the ground. "Nice fur by the way. When that come about?"

"A while back. Goodness, you've changed a great deal, as well. Where've you been to acquire such an accent?" Many of the students were standing in circle, gaping at the sight before them. Their slightly reclusive professor had not been this affectionate to anyone, well ever.

"New Zealand, mate! I just moved back to the states, after a thirteen year stint. Govument found out that I didn't have a visa to be there." He gaped at her, feeling that wasn't the whole story. They just stared at each other for a moment until Wolverine coughed to get there attention.

"Beast, who is she?" he asked her after he had put his claws away. Something about her didn't seem right. She turned to Hank and raised an eyebrow at what Wolverine had just called him.

"Oh, a very old friend of mine from Illinois. Logan, meet Quinn O'Hara." she smiled and waved. She offered her hand to him and he took it grudgingly. He turned and walked away, shooing the students away as he went.

"He's friendly." she vocalized sarcastically. She revolved her head around and noticed the wide variety of students standing around them.

"Can we go somewhere…"

"Yes, of course. Students, Jean and Storm are waiting." he gestured to Quinn. "Follow me." She nodded and shouldered her pack on her back and obediently followed. He took her to a quiet part of the campus, where a couple of the benches were. He sat down on one of them crossed an ankle over his knee. She threw her bag roughly to the ground and sat down next to him. They sat in silence for a moment as tshe retied her bandana around her head. He noticed that she had dyed a couple of streaks in her hair fire truck red. It was slightly endearing.

"It's been to long, Hank." she told him as leaned back and threw her head upward to the blue sky. He nodded in agreement, and the silence continued. They had a lot to talk about, but it was so much they didn't know where to start.

"This is a great place, Hank. If only I had known about it earlier on." She turned to face him, bringing her legs up and sitting Indian-style. "When did you find out about this?"

He was silent again. "Um… Well, three days after you left. Xavier was at the football game that you missed. He had detected a mutant signal in the area of my home, he felt certain it was me. He gave me an offer to stay with him." Quinn hung her head low. She sighed and didn't answer for a moment.

"That certainly makes me feel like crap," she announced bitterly.

"I told him that the signal must have been your emerging powers. He looked for you for a while, but your powers never resurfaced. We looked, we really did." He pleaded with her to understand. She smiled and looked out at the campus after giving a non-committal shrug. A student was chasing a Frisbee, changing back and forth from a wolf and to her human form.

"Yeah, I understand. Do you think they'll take a late application?" Hank shrugged.

"That, my friend, is all up to Charles Xavier. Knowing him, he may let you stay, but then again, he may not." She nodded, stood up, and walked around the bench.

"Where will you go if you can't?" She pulled off her bandana to run her finger through her hair. He noticed she had picked up the habit of nail biting. She took her bandana and threaded her hair back through it, removing all the stray hairs from her face. Her ears were no longer pierced. Back when she was younger, she always wore some kind or earrings, it was odd to see her even without the piercing at all.

"Hank, I honestly don't know anymore. This was my safest bet after the fiasco in Queenstown." she laughed shrewdly in remembrance.

"What happened?" He leaned forward in anticipation.

"Can't tell yah, mate! If I did, I'd hafta kill ya." she winked at him, and then grew solemn, "No, seriously, I rather save that story for another day, if you don't mind."

"What can you tell me about what happened after you disappeared?" she sat back down on the bench, assuming the same hands over knees expression that Hank had. He notice for the first time, a string of an odd pattern had been tattooed onto her neck and ran down under her shirt.

"Well, I just walked. I went to Mrs. Jameson's orchard and picked as much fruit as I could and then kept going. I hitched a ride with an old man with a truck full of hay. He told me he was going to drive down to Mississippi, that I could ride in the back as long as I wanted too. I spent a week riding in the back of that hay truck. I wound up in a town in Mississippi called Brookhaven and found a couple of homeless kids that were living in the gutted remains of an old women's college. They were three kids who had run away from their orphanage in Jackson. One was old enough that he had found a couple of odd jobs around town. They took me in with open arms, and found me a couple of jobs, too.

It was rough, even down south, it was a harsh winter to live through with no source of heat. Paula, the youngest, had gotten so sick that we almost lost her. I told them about my powers after living with them for six months, and three days later I found myself in Memphis, Tennessee looking for work. I took a job as a gardener and house-keeper for a kind-hearted old woman. She let me stay in the shed, and she taught me everything I ever needed to know about southern cooking." She sighed leaned against his shoulder.

"What about you? You certainly have changed a lot, yourself. I'm liking the fur." she reached up and rubbed her hand across the soft fur on his cheek. He moved away from her touch and stood up.

"I think we should take you to Professor Xavier, now." She stood up, too, slightly shocked at his sudden bitterness.

"Oh, Okay." she reached to pick up her bag, but Hank, being a proper gentlemen like his mother taught him, shouldered the bag himself and walked two strides in front of her.

"Hank, what do you do here? Can you at least answer me that?" He looked back and gave her a half-smile.

"I'm a professor." She returned the smile.

"Suits you, Beastly."

…

Hank walked her up the stairs and out of the lobby. Judging from the lack of students and the odd aromas that made her stomach pang in a hungry discomfort, it was lunch time. He took her down a hallway, then through another hallway and then down and elevator to the basement. She was then met in a hallway covered in steel, by Wolverine and by the man that had appeared on the news several times, debating on mutant rights. Charles Xavier.

"Hello Miss O'Hara. I'm Charles Xavier. I remember searching for you many years ago, you are quite the elusive one." Quinn gave a sheepish smile and nodded. "What brings you to the mansion, now?" He seemed to exude a kindness, and a sense of paternal ness that was very rare nowadays.

"I'm looking for employment, and I heard that this place was a safe haven for mutants." She told him honestly. Xavier leaned forward, staring her in the eyes. His held up his hands, placing his fingertips against each other in a steeple like manner.

"Well, a friend of Hank's is always welcome here," he said finally. She sighed loudly in relief and began to offer up her thanks.

"What job do you feel you would be best suited for?" he asked. She rolled her eyes up the ceiling in thought.

"Ugh, anything, sir. I can cook, clean, garden, paint, clerical or maintenance work, anything you name and I'll do it." Xavier again nodded.

"I do think, we are in need of a cook. I don't think any of us can deal with Kitty's muffins and peanut butter and jelly much longer. Though, I must ask. What makes you come here in search of a safe haven among other mutants after living alone for so long?" Quinn instantly clammed up. She took a step back, and Hank could sense her fear rising up.

"I, uh, um, I would rather not talk about it," she finally stuttered out. Logan was not amused. He stepped forward and gave a growl of discontent. It startled Quinn, making her throw up her arms in alarm. Hank suddenly had a very protective urge to stand between them.

"How do you expect the Professor to trust you with a job if yer not gonna be honest with 'im?" he asked gruffly. Xavier threw up his hand to silence Logan.

"No, Logan, it's quite alright. I do believe that she should not have to divulge anything she's not comfortable with."

"No, Professor, he's right, I'll, I'll tell you everything."

...

...

That's Chapter Two, all wrapped up.. See you in the Later guys and girls. Remember to review if you like, or if you don't. I give props to RowenaTempest and TruInsanity for being amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Marvel's not mine

Disclaimer: Marvel's not mine.

Songs to jam to: Blink 182 "I Miss You", Panic at the Disco's "Nine in the Afternoon", and Paramore's "Emergency"

Chapter Three.

"_Quinn, what is today's date?" asked a blonde male who was lounging along a tattered and worn couch. His closed his eyes and sighed. Quinn, who was mixing the bleach for her hair, turned and looked down the street at a bank sign._

"_August 12__th__, why?" she asked as she began applying the bleach to her hair with a plastic spoon, while looking at a broken mirror she had propped up over a box of Captain Crunch. _

"_It's been almost a year since mutants were first discovered," he told her as he rolled over to watch her dye her hair. Dale was not the first mutant she had met since she ran from Dunfee, but he was the only one who has stuck with her for this long. They had actually managed to make some semblance of a life together. They had both gotten jobs and an apartment. It was the most stable her life had been in, well, over twenty years. _

"_Really, feels like yesterday," she replied as she tied back the last bit of bleached hair with a bit of aluminum foil._

"_Yeah, You still think we should give up everything and go to Xavier and become one of those mutant crime fighters?" He asked laughingly as she got up and washed the left over bleach out of the bowl and down the sink. She moved and sat down on the counter, looking at Dale who had decided to sit up and stretch out his long lanky form. His thick-rimmed glasses had begun to slide down his nose. He pushed them back up his nose and got up and walked across the room, being very careful of his own movements._

"_Yeah, I do actually. If we went, maybe they would know a way to help with your powers, make them safer for you. Besides, how long to do think it will last until those Sentinels find out that we are two illegal American mutants, living in Queenstown, New Zealand."_

_Dale had a very odd mutation. He was a like a leprechaun, except it didn't work so well for him. What ever he doled out in good luck, he got back twice as much in bad luck. He also couldn't really control when he used it either. If Quinn were to find a ten-dollar bill on the ground, Dale would lose a twenty. Quinn found herself staying around him a lot, out of fear that his mutant powers could wind up killing him. He didn't respond, he just opened the fridge and pulled open a bottle of root beer. _

"_Do we have a bottle opener?" Dale asked holding up is drink. Quinn gave a smile and picked up a piece of chalk and did a quick sketch of a bottle opener directly onto the wall. When she finished she tapped the wall with her finger and with a flash of red light, a bottle opener was sitting in the palm of her hand. She cracked the bottle open for him and set the cap and bottle opener on the counter next to her. _

"_So, your sure red would look the best?" she asked him as he took a long drink from the bottle of brown liquid. _

"_Yeah, I think so, I think whatever you do to your hair would look good, though I'm digging the aluminum foil thing you've got going on there," he smiled sincerely and kissed her softly. It tasted like the root beer he had been drinking. Her hand wove its way through his hand and kissed him back with a little more passion, his hands wound around her waist, bringing himself closer to her. Her eyes suddenly snapped open and she leapt down from the countertop. _

"_I gotta wash this outta my hair, afore it fries!" She moved and turned on the water and threw her head under and began pulling out aluminum pieces from her hair. Dale just smiled and placed down his drink. He crossed the small kitchen and began to help her wash out her hair as gently as he could. _

…

"_Come on Lazy, run!" Quinn called out to Dale, voice full of laughter, as she jogged down the crowded sidewalks of bright and cheery Queenstown. Quinn was running a good twenty feet in front of Dale, supporting new stoplight red streaks in her hair. Dale was panting and gasping for air as he struggled to catch up with an unwavering Quinn. His eyes opened in shock as a man slammed against Quinn and threw her into a brick wall. Her head snapped back, hitting the concrete wall behind her with a crack. Her eyes flew open, red light surrounded her and then shot out like a bullet through the large crowd. Mass chaos ensued. _

_Every drawing on a billboard, bus, and tee shirt, was brought to life. Tigers, snakes, and miniature airplanes began bombarding the civilians in Queenstown. Cars were flipping to avoid endangered species and half naked beauty queens that were wandering aimlessly around. Dale ran forward to his fallen friend who wasn't moving. The man who had pushed her had disappeared into an alleyway. He slid to the ground and propped up her head. A not-so-small amount of blood was dripping down the wall and it was now coating his hand. _

_Dale was shaking in fear, is friend, his love, was dying in his arms. He gave a sigh and gripped her hand. Quinn peered open one eye as he laid her down on the concrete, ignoring the Armageddon that was going on around them. He took her hand in both of his and rubbed his hands across her, gold light enveloping her hand and traveling down her arm. Quinn's eyes grew wide as she tried to get him to let go. She suddenly, miraculously was able to move and the bleeding had stopped. She wrenched her arm away from him, and stood up. She closed her eyes and then clasped her hands together. Red light came from everywhere around her and then was pulled back into her body. _

_All the creatures that she had brought out, disappeared and then reappeared back into the respectable painting, logo, or wherever they had come from. _

_She turned to Dale who cautiously stood up and walked over to her. Crowds of people were suddenly making there way to them. They were being labeled mutants; items were being thrown at them along with every spiteful curse the English language held. Quinn grabbed Dale's hand and tried to pull him through the growing mob. Quinn avoided every kick, punch, and throwing soda can, but Dale had taken three kicks to the knees and a half eaten cheeseburger to the face. _

_Once they had made there way out of the crowd, Quinn made a bolt for it, pulling Dale behind her. _

"_Still think we won't be found out, Dale?" she huffed as a group of people had begun to follow them. _

"_I think now is a good time to head to the states. What do you think about the name Chance? You think that codename has already been taken?" he rambled on behind her. She gave a groan. Police were setting up a blockade. A man held a megaphone to his mouth. _

"_Okay you mutie's I don't know what you think you are doing but it end's here!" Quinn stopped and held her hands by her side. Dale, scared out of his mind, threw his arms high into the air. The sudden movement of a mutant scared the cops, and shots rang out. _

_Quinn watched Dale crumple to the ground, as the only thing that hit her was the breeze of bullets going past her. She ran to her fallen comrade, as everything felt as if she were underwater. _

….

"Just like I had predicted. I was put under custody, found to be illegal, and quickly deported back to the states. I told them about how it was an accident and a near by video camera proved it, but they ejected me from New Zealand and wouldn't even give me the mercy of burying my best friend. I've been debating about coming here like we had planned for a month now. I had no idea Hank would be here. I guess that's just a plus," she told them as she ended her story. Everyone was shocked in minor silence.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, wow, that sucks." She told them as she quickly swallowed back her reoccurring grief. Hank gave a half smile, her attitude certainly hadn't changed at all, "So, Professor Xavier, can I stay?"

Xavier immediately nodded. "As I said previously, a friend of Hank's is always welcome, no matter their past. Welcome to the mansion. I will have Jubilee and Magma ready a room for you, and Hank since you have a class after lunch, would you like to see if Storm could give her a tour of the mansion, the kitchen's especially?" Hank nodded and led Quinn back to the lobby where, strangely enough, Storm was already waiting.

"The professor told me about you. Are you ready to begin the tour?" Quinn nodded and waved good-bye to a quickly retreating Hank.

…

…

That's chapter three ladies and gents, sorry if it got a little graphic….


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry guys.. been almost a year since I worked on this. Oh well, I'm here now. Let's see if I can work on this some more ^.^.

Songs I rocked out to, and so should you. :) My inspiration songs. Slide- The Goo Goo Dolls, Swing Life Away- Rise Against, and The Mariner's Revenge Song- The Decemberists

-------

"Wow, So, Like, we're supposed to have this rad new cook. Some, like, old friend of Professor McCoy's from way back when." Kitty shouted at them as they rode back from school in Scott's car. Scott and Jean sat in the front, while Kurt, Rogue, and Kitty fought the wind from blowing back their hair and into their eyes.

"Totally dude, she looks like she had no where else to go. She looked homeless and she hugged Professor McCoy like they hadn't talked in ages. I wonder vhere she came vrom."

"That is a good question, Kurt!" Jean responded, her head turned around to face then, her long fingers were trying to hold back her red hair.

"I dunno guys, I'm more concerned if she knows how to cook!" Scott added. Jean and Kurt laughed at his witty remark.

"It's okay guys, If she's, like, terrible, I can still cook my muffins!"

"That's alright, Kitty. I'd rather just deal with her food," Rogue responded bitterly, her hands on her lap as she subconsciously tried not to touch the two people she was crammed between. Kitty looked slightly offended but didn't say anything as Scott pulled into the garage trying to quickly avoid the argument he could foresee coming.

-------

Quinn was settled in very quickly. It wasn't like she had all that much to unpack. They let her leave with very little. Throwing her now empty bag on the floor and tucking both hands deep into her pants pockets, she left her room and headed to the bottom floor to scope out the kitchens.

It took her several minutes, but she successfully managed to get completely lost. She wandered up and down several different halls that all looked distinctly the same before she found exactly what she wasn't looking for. All the reds and dark wood tones had been traded in for platinum white walls and heaps of technology.

"Yep, I'm lost." She turned around to try and back track to her room when she ran into the man named Logan.

"What are yeh doin' down here?" he asked her in his gruffest voice. She stepped to the side to let him pass.

"I was just looking for the kitchens. Sorry if I wasn't supposed to be down here or something…."

"This is just a training area for faculty and students only. I don't think this is a place for a," he passed for a minute, seemingly sizing her up. He even sniffed at her, "cook." Her eyes narrowed in response.

"Understood, but you telling me not to be down here isn't going to help the fact that I still don't know how to get to the kitchens. Could you please tell me where the kitchens are," she paused for a moment, "Professor Logan". A long blue hand edged around the door frame, and Hank emerged with glasses on the tip of his nose and a hand curled around a book.

"It's quite alright Quinn, I'll take you to the kitchens. You might want to go ahead and find some kind of snacks for the students; they'll be back from classes soon and will be quite hungry."

So Quinn quickly pushed past the both of them and hurriedly had Hank direct her to the kitchens. She was not in the kitchens for a full minute before she had a counter top full of ingredients spread out at her disposal.

"I'll just leave you to it then, Quinn. I have a class to prepare for so I'll see you at dinner." He waited, hopefully almost for her to respond, she just nodded as she began to wash her hands in sink. He sighed and gently closed the door behind her.

"It's good to have you back," he whispered as he ambled down the hall.

Back in the kitchens, Quinn began cutting a cabbage. Her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth as she tried to think of the ingredients and not of the man who had just walked out of the kitchens.

-----

According to all of his students Quinn's cooking had been a huge success, not that anyone had seen her to tell her so. They informed him that when they got home, huge amounts of fresh homemade egg rolls were waiting for them on a table. Then, we he came down to dinner, a huge array of grilled sandwiches were spread on the table, along with, much to Rogue's delight, fresh from the south sweet tea. Dessert was type of cheesecake that tasted strange, but very delicious. The only thing that Hank thought was missing was the woman who made it.

After dinner, Hank excused himself walked up to Quinn's room. He wanted to thank her, and well, talk to her. He hadn't been able to talk to his best friend in over twenty years. He rapped gently on the door at first, and then knocked a little harder a second time.

"Quinn? It's Hank! Do you mind if I come in?" He heard no response, not even the sound of movement was heard behind the door. He pressed an ear to the door and he could tell that the room was dead silent. His hand grazed the door knob as he tried to debate whether or not he should go inside. His curiosity got the best of him, and without even knowing why, he opened her unlocked door and walked inside.

There wasn't much, a pile of clothes were in a neat lump on the floor and a dresser top was covered with the contents of a spilled art box. Her bed was still neatly made and a sketch book was lying open on the bed. An old piece of lined paper was glued into one of the pages, it was covered in old script, handwriting, he instantly recognized.

_**Hey Beastly, we should make a Bucket List!!!**_

_We should pay attention to the teacher, Van Gogh._

_**Eh, Why? If I want to know how reproduction works, I can just find one of my dad's playboys.**_

_I'm not even going to grace that remark with an answer. Fine, Let us see. _

_Number One, Win a Nobel Peace Prize._

_**Lame! ;) Hum…. **_

_**Number Two: Fight Crime!**_

_Yes, since that is not cliché either. _

_Number Three: Leave the Country, (Paris Preferably, I would like to visit the Louvre)_

_**Wow, you are so lame and nerdy. I love it!**_

_**Number Three: Live to see my thirties.**_

_Well, that isn't morbid at all, I must say._

_Number Four: Find a place where we are both accepted._

_**Good Luck with that one. :P**_

_**Number Five: (Don't make fun of me!) Fall in love.**_

_Don't worry, I won't, though I have several witty retorts._

_Number Six: Discover something worth a Noble Peace Prize._

_**But Beastly you already have, You've discovered me!**_

_**  
Number Seven: Spit off the Effiel Tower!**_

_One, Van Gogh, that is crass. Two, It is spell Eiffel._

Their Bucket list went on for several pages, some of them were marked out. Much to his amusement, the Eiffel Tower one was marked off the list. Then she went on and added more to the list as the years went by. One that caught his eye was "Find, my Beastly," and it was recently marked off with a black felt tip pen. He flipped back to the first page, "Fall in Love," was not.

"What are you doing?" Hank was shocked out of his thoughts as his head snapped up to find a red faced Quinn standing in the door way. She stepped forward and pried the old bucket list from his hands as he sputtered his excuses and apologies.

"It's our old list." She told him, though it wasn't needed because they both knew that he had already been looking through it.

"You've enhanced it with a bit of your own, too, I see." He added as the awkwardness that had accumulated had begun to evaporate around them. She nodded and sat down on her bed, legs tucked under her. She patted on the bed beside her. He quickly obliged. He noticed that she smelled strongly of dish soap. She flipped through it a little bit and then turned to look as him.

"Will we ever be able to go back to the way it was? It seems to have just been awkward between the two of us since I showed up. Did you want me even to come back?" she asked softly. Hank just sighed and picked up a felt tip pen from behind him. He flipped to the first page and marked out "Find a place where the both of us would be accepted." She smiled and leaned her shoulder against him.

"I should be mad at you for being such a snoop, but I just don't feel like it." Her head leaned against the curve of his shoulder. "I know it's a sore subject, but well… How did you become all blue and fuzzy?" He smiled an almost grimace.

"I meddled in things I shouldn't, and tried to pretend that who I am wasn't who I was." She just nodded. He could feel the waves of exhaustion roll of her. He closed the old notebook and set it on her bedside table. "Get some sleep." She nodded, standing to walk him out of her room. He kept walking as he heard the door click shut behind him.

After he was good and far down the hall, Quinn gathered up her clothes in the corner and tried to re-find the laundry room that Storm had shower her previously. She found it easier than she had found the kitchens. Throwing in all the clothes she had in one washing machine and adding liberal amounts of the washing powder she found on a shelf and then sat down on top of one the dryers and sat thinking to the hum of a dryer whirring behind her. She sat their staring at the back wall until her clothes finished with a quiet ding. She leapt down and began throwing all her clothes into the dryer. She began to get hot, standing next to dryer. So when she finished throwing her close in the dryer she unzipped her sweater, revealing a plain orange tank top.

"Wow, sweet tats!" Quinn turned around. A dark skinned youth stood in the doorway. A white basket oozing dirty clothes sat in his hands. She looked down at herself.

"Yeah, I like them, too." She said. He could see the long pattern of browns and yellow spots that stretched from her neck, down between her shoulder blades, and with the slip of skin that her tank top reveal, that it edged around her back and loop around one hip. She hastily pulled her tank top down. Her left wrist had a thin flame pattern around one wrist, and on the right had one that looked like water. Both were about the size of a thick bangle.

"I'm Spyke. Are you the new cook?" He told her as he dumped his clothes on a table and reached for the same box of community detergent.

"Oh, well, yes. I'm Quinn O'hara." She smiled at him and reached out and shook his hand.

"Dude those egg rolls today were rad. Loved them! Where did you learn to cook like that. You don't look Asian." She kept smiling as she hopped back up on the dryer.

"Oh, here and there. I picked up things from quite a few people, but I'm glad you like them. So, is Spyke your real name?" She highly doubted it was, but eh, you never really know.

"No, It's my mutant code name. My real name, is uh, Evan Daniels. Do you have a mutant name, too?" he asked.

"Well, I guess. Hank used to call me Van Gogh years ago, it kinda stuck." She pulled up one of her legs that was dangling down from the dryer to her. She noticed that she needed to re-patch the hole in that knee. "Why do they call you Spyke if you don't mind me asking?"

"Um, well… I can shoot spikes out of my skin at will." At that moment he inhaled too much detergent and sneezed. She ducked just in time to dodge a slew of spikes that hit the walls.

"Bless you." She managed. He smiled and apologized.

"Why do they call you Van Gogh?" he grunted as he tried to dislodge a spike from the wall. She hopped down and pulled a white china marker from her pocked. She looked down at one of the grey tables and began to draw a quick sketch of a basketball. Placing her china marker back into her pocket, she placed a hand on the drawing. When she lifted it up, a round grey basketball came with her. She bounced it on the floor once and then handed it to him. The drawing on the table was gone.

"Sweet!" They talked until her clothes where dry and she bunched them back up and walked back to her room to fold them.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay here's another. I just finished my English final and I thought I would and another chapter. I only have about an hour so, It'll be kinda short.

This Chapter's Jam list- Goo Goo Dolls- Black Balloon, Iz- Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Hot Hot Heat- In the Middle of Nowhere, Jimmy Eat World- Pain

----

Chapter Five

Hank McCoy was getting quite frustrated. He never remembered Quinn being so good at hiding from him. He would try to catch her right before meal times, and everytime, fresh food would already spread on the table, dishes would already be clean, and she wouldn't be in her room.

He refused to snoop again, but this was odd. Where was she going all the time? Even the students hadn't seen her since Evan saw her in the laundry room. He had heard him tell the story several times now. Had twenty years really caused that big a change in her?

"Yeah, so like, no one has seen her? Not at all? Is she like those Harry Potter house elves?" Everyone turned to Kitty with odd stares. "You know, they make all the food and stuff, but you never see them. You just know that they're there because the food is made everyday. You only can see them is you call them forth and stuff." Rogue laughed.

"So she's like Beetlejuice now? Just yell her name three times. Cook Lady! Cook Lady! Cook Lady!" Rogue told her mockingly. Several of the students laughed, but only momentarily before their laughter was cut short.

"Someone rang?" The white swing door opened and Quinn stepped out, with a large plate of cookies in hand. She set them down in the middle of the table and turned to walk out.

"Quinn, please join us." Xavier asked. She looked at him and nodded. She sat down uncomfortably in between Kurt and Hank. Hank noticed that even though she was still wearing the same tattered and worn clothing that she brought with her, they fitted her better, color was coming back into her cheeks. Her hair was no longer tied back in a bandana, but loose and to her shoulders, the red had faded out a little, turning to light blonde.

"You are quite the elusive one aren't you? The students are dying to get to know you. It seems that only Evan here has had the joy of getting to know you." Xavier told her. "You may not realize it, but you are just as much a part of this group as anyway." Quinn nodded but didn't say anything. She turned and watched Kurt go through his fifth cookie since she sat down.

"It's good to know that my cooking is well appreciated." Xavier nodded and introduced everyone to her. She politely listened to everyone's introduction before politely excusing herself to wash the dishes.

----

Hank waited until everyone has dispersed a little before he excused himself to go find Quinn in the kitchens. He walked inside to find her shoulder deep in soapy water. She saw him and quickly pulled out a crock pot out of the rinse and set it on a drying rack before drying her hands on her apron.

"Hey, what's up, mate?" she asked as she leaned against the counter top.

"Where've you been going all the time?" She looked at him strangely.

"Working and I guess I've been doing a lot of walking around. This place has a beautiful campus." She reached under her apron to tuck her hands deep into her pockets. "That and I've been doing a lot of thinking." Hank raised an eyebrow.

"Thinking about what, per say?" She laughed a little. He just realized that she had been back for almost a week and not once had her heard her do that deep laugh that he remembered best.

"Oh, everything, I guess. I miss New Zealand. I miss Dale. Look I know you must think that I'm avoiding you, you know since I got back here. I've made no effort to talk to you since I came begging for a job." Hank nodded not knowing where she was going with this. "I miss you. I do. I just don't know how to pick back up and start back up where we left. We left off on a really odd note."

"What do you mean and odd note?" he was beginning to get angry. "You just left. You just disappeared. No phone calls, nothing. Do you have any idea what it was like for me? Knowing that you mostly hitchhiked of the wrong person and you were lying dead in a ditch. You know they hung your picture up in the grocery store. I had to walk by it every time I went home!"

"Yes, I bet you were so worried while you were here at Mutant High. It took me ten years of living like an unwanted freak to find out what I really was!"

"Maybe if you would stop running from everything and everyone then you would have learned sooner!" Quinn glared at him as reached behind her and untied her apron. She threw it carelessly behind her. It skidded behind her and fell in the sink. She turned on one heel to leave the room. Hank hastily grabbed her forearm and pulled her close to him. He leaned in close and whispered to her.

"Stop running, Quinn. You're safe here. You have answers here. You have me, now." He whispered. She yanked her arm free and leaned in close to him. Their faces haven't been this close since she kissed him goodbye all those years ago.

"What makes you think I need any of those things?" She spat and then she blinked once and turned, throwing the door forward, it swung back forcefully just before he caught a glimpse of a confused looking Rogue. He gave a sigh and placed his knuckles on the ground and ran after her. He wasn't going to let her disappear again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow. I really fail at this updating thing. Horribly. Well, regardless here is an update. **

**While writing this, I listened to **_**Fell in Love Without You**_** by Motion City Soundtrack, **_**Sound of Settling **_**by Death Cab for Cutie, and **_**Savior by Rise Against. **_

----

"You know what, Kitty?" Rogue asked as she walked into the room. Kitty, who had been sitting on her bed looked up in confusion.

"What's up, Rogue?" Rogue sat down on a vanity seat, placing her hand on her chin, hair falling into her face.

"I'm really curious about this new cook, Quinn, isn't that her name?" Kitty nodded. She blew her hair out of her eyes and leaned back. "I heard her and Beast have a pretty gnarly argument a minute ago."

"Beast? Argue with someone? That's like the weirdest thing to think about." She flopped down on her stomach, kicking her heels in the air with thought. "Oooh, you don't think it's like some kinda lovers quarrel do you? Oh, the two of them would be soooo adorable." Rogue rolled her eyes.

"It didn't really sound like that, from what I heard. I didn't hear much, but it didn't sound even remotely affectionate 'ta me." Rogue turned an looked out the window. She saw the hulking form of Beast crossing the back part of the grounds. His head was up, like he was looking for someone.

-----

It was with a huff of frustration that he decided that Quinn was extremely good at not being found when she didn't want to. It was almost as if she could blot herself out of existence until she decided to communicate. It was most annoying.

He finally sat down on a bench after looking on the grounds for a good while. He went to her room, and she wasn't in there. Nor was she in the laundry room or library. It was chilly out side, he could still see his breath in front of him as he sat idly on the bench. His mind wandered back and forth, to the Quinn he knew as an awkward teenager, and the Quinn he knew now.

The Quinn he knew back then, was still there, he saw glimmers of it in the few times that they saw each other. She still chewed on her bottom lip and she still was a typical avoider when it came to her problems. When her parent fought, she would lock herself in her room and sneak a phone call to him when she knew they wouldn't need the phone. She said it was her sending up flare, to let him know that she was okay.

That reminded him. Had she still not contacted her parents after all this time? He hadn't talked to the O'hara's in decades. They accused him of causing harm to her, but the charges were almost instantly dropped when the police found that she had packed up and left. His own mother would at least love to know that she was alive and well. She treated Quinn like her own daughter, loved her like one, and was also extremely distraught over her running away. He would give her a call in the morning, most assuredly.

It was steadily getting chillier as the night wore on. It didn't effect him, except that he could feel the cold in his lungs as he sat on bench, still buried in thought.

"I'm sorry." It was soft, and almost inaudible to his own ears. He turned around and found Quinn shivering softly behind him. He was so trapped in his own stream of consciousness he hadn't even heard her walk up. He turned to stand up, but she motioned for him to stay where he was and joined him on the bench.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I got angry with you. I don't know why I can't just pick up where we were." She was still shivering as she pulled her knees to her. She was just wearing jeans and a light flannel shirt, what she had been wearing when she stormed out of the kitchens.

"I must agree that I haven't been very forth coming with you either, but Quinn, I can promise you that I'm your friend and I still care for you as much as I did when we were kids. If there is anything you need. I'm here, I swear to it." He said as he put an arm around her shoulders.

"Some cocoa." She said after a moment of silence. "I would love some cocoa right now." She said more soundly. She stood up and turned to face him. "I can make a mean cup of cocoa." She held a hand out to him. "Would you like to join me?" He smiled a toothy grin and took her hand for a moment. It was much larger than her long fingers, her fingers loosely wound around his as she looked at him expectantly. The wind was chilly and was causing her hair to blow around her shoulders wildly.

"I would love to."

---

They swapped stories on the way to kitchens, and all the time while she melted chocolate and made large pot of cocoa.

"You mean you really lived in the trees?" Beast asked incredulously. She nodded as she poured two large mugs and handed him one.

"Yup. Sure did. After the after Mrs. Morgan in Memphis passed away, I decided to go North. Way North. I still hadn't found my answers in the South, and I hoped that I might find them up North. I hopped a Greyhound to Montana. While on the bus I met my first mutants, April and Willow. April was a mutant who could see a person's aura. She was an expert at reading them, and she plopped down next to me and straight up asked me what my power was. I was flabbergasted, but her and Willow treated me to pancakes and we talked the rest of the trip. Willow, wow, she was basically a tree-talker. She could make the trees sway and move to her will. In Montana, we found a huge forest, and she bent it to her will, making these fantastic tree houses.

"It was a safe haven for mutants, and we were happy there. I learned how to develop my powers to the fullest there, with April as my teacher. She even did these for me." Quinn leaned forward and showed him the back of her neck. Beast put his cocoa in one hand and moved to run a finger down the pattern along her neck. "They are actually tied into my mutant powers.."

"Do I smell Cocoa?" The door swung open and the two adults snapped apart. Kurt and Scott poked their heads into the kitchen. Quinn set her cup on the counter and reached up to grab more two more mugs. Beast motioned the two students inside.

"You do indeed, Kurt. In fact it is some of the best cocoa I have ever tasted. Do you mind if they join us, Quinn?" Beast asked even though he knew she would agree. She had already begun to pour them mugs too.

"Sure, there's plenty for you…" Then Jean, Amara, Rayne, and Evan poked their heads in, as well. "I can always make more!" She disappeared into the pantry. After a few minutes all the students had abandoned the idea of chairs and were sitting in a circle in the floor of the kitchen with Hank as Quinn passed out mugs.

"Wow, Ms. O'hara! This is some of the best cocoa I've ever had!" Rayne and Amara both told her as she refilled Hank and her's mug and joined them on the floor. "Why thank you, and call me Quinn," she said with a smile as she sat Indian style between Jean and Evan.

"I still cannot get over does cookies!" Kurt said as he rubbed his stomach. Quinn smiled another huge grin. Hank, who was sitting directly across from her, decided that he hadn't seen her smile this much since they were kids. Even in her teens, it was a rare occasion for her to smile this much.

"Well, I still have some extra dough in the freezer, I'll bake em' up tomorrow. For now, I need to get some idea on what you guys want for breakfast tomorrow." She listened to them bounce around ideas. Some of the students were health conscious and some needed very sustaining meals because of their mutant powers.

They all sat and talked in the circle until all the cocoa was gone. The students all dispersed to do homework and shower and Quinn turned to the large mountain of dishes in the sink. Hank was still standing behind her.

"You rinse and I load into the dishwasher?" He asked.

"Deal!" Quinn said as she began running water over the mugs and handing them to Hank. It went fast and soon all the dishes we done and she had even hung the apron that had fallen in the sink against a chair to dry. She set the dishwasher to run and gave a yawn.

"I think I'm going to head for bed. I'll take these out in the morning." She said as dried off her hands, patted the dishwasher, and headed out the door. Hank followed behind her and held the door open for both of them to pass.

She turned in the hallway, pushing her hair out of her face. She looked almost nervous.

"Is something bothering you?" Hank asked. She shook her head.

"No, I just wanted to say thank you." She said finally.

"Oh, for the dishes? That was no problem." She shook her head again.

"No, I wanted to thank you, for being there for me… Even when I didn't think I wanted you to be." Quinn said softly, still not looking at him.

"It's not problem Quinn," He placed a hand on her face and made her look at him, "Really, It's not. I'm so glad to have you back." He then reached forward and swallowed her into a hug. It lasted for a few seconds before they both said their goodnights and turned and headed in separate directions.


End file.
